chronicles of an igorot in australia. a photoblog in parts, this is intended as a diary, travelogue, memoir, journal, palimpsest, igorot blog, accounts of misadventures, running battles or whatever it turns out to be. there might be souls out there with common interests. do post a comment.

Gadget

Saturday, 31 March 2012

About 80 runners turned up for this fat ass (no fee and informal)
running event. The events listed are: 50km ultra,Marathon and Half-marathon

The foreshores of Moreton bay along the northern coastal villages of Shorncliffe
Sandgate Brighton in Brisbane and the bayside suburbs from Clontarf to
Scarborough in the Redcliff peninsula are picturesque and beautiful
recreational areas comprising beaches jetties and piers parklands picnicking
grounds swimming pools and other features all linked by tree-lined pathways
with more than enough facilities including toilets drink fountains barbeques
exercise structures sculptures and other art pieces etc.

Shorncliffe, Sandgate and Brighton on Moreton Bay.

Oh yes i come not to praise

the place, but to race

an event called the cliff2cliff

hoping to place, not in last place

or fall off the cliff face

and come to grief...

anyone know poetry?

A half-marathon is a test of sorts. It is a test of endurance and speed,
if one’s aiming to see how fast she can run. Marathoners and ultra runners may
scoff at what I call endurance, and the speed freaks go past me as if i’m
standing still, but it’s the business end of a funrunner’s diary – exam time.
Nothing personal against endurance and speed but my aim is to finish and at a
reasonable time (somewhere faster than walking).

Night was still wrestling with the dawn when i arrived, but it soon yielded
to the glorious bright sunlit morning which greeted the runners at the Shorncliffe
pier. Actually I slept in and was amongst the last to arrive. The race director Grant came ronning er running to put me down for the 50km ultra. I asked to register for the 211km super-ultra, but apparently
that event was cancelled. The boardwalk on the pacific coast around Moreton and
Stradbroke Islands to Kingscliff in NSW was still under construction J, so I had to settle for the 21.1km
half-marathon.

A sunrise or sunset meander along the beautiful foreshores from
Shorncliffe to Brighton and beyond the bridge to Redcliff is worth doing. And
if something is worth doing, then it is worth doing well. So I thought why walk
when you can fly? And indeed I went up to the skies to capture the incomparable beauty of
these parts of the northern Brisbane area.

Shorncliffe

From cliff to cliff and park to park, jetty to jetty and bridge to
bridge, its all here. Yes even creek to creek, bay to bay, 'fish and chips'
shops to 'chips and fish chops', all the way from coast to coast...

Too much
waffling Martin. Back to running.

A good number of runners had turned up. In the few weeks and days
leading up to the race, there was a bit of chatter in the coolrunning forum for
this fat ass event, so many more were attracted to its features. Cooled by
the seabreezes off moreton bay and shaded and protected by trees lining the
coast, the sometimes winding but mostly straight pathways take runners for a
tour of the foreshores.

Last year’s inaugural cliff2cliff was a leisurely run with fewer
participants, but this year’s looked a serious race for many of the faster
runners out front.

Sandgate by the sea.

Shorncliffe is the mustering area for this great fat ass running event.
The name Shorncliffe derives from the appearance of its headland as viewed from
out on Moreton Bay. It is also the starting area for the Brisbane to Gladstone
Easter yacht race, and that's coming up soon, but before that are the runners.

At the gun, the runners headed south to the groyne fronting the
Shorncliffe headland cliffs, a 300-350m route alteration due to ongoing repairs
to the pier. We ducked in and out of trees and bollards and sidestepped around
tables and lawns on the short out and back trip to the groyne. Then the race settled to its rhythm.

From the start I ran, or tried matching paces with a self-trained runner,
Ms Chelle, a young woman who starts her day with a lazy early morning run of
'only' 9km. And as if that's not enough, she also does another easy 9 km home
in the evenings.

We hit Sandgate at about the 2km mark. Sandgate is popular for
excursions and picnics and outings, but since the opening of the Hornibrook
Highway to the beaches in Redcliff, became more a secret hideaway for the
locals. The runners toured its long foreshore reserves while taking in the
panoramic views of the bay. Chelle and me ran along the lovely shady picnic
lawns and foreshores. We overtook a few runners as we admired the remaining
historical sights of Sandgate village.

Looking south to Decker Park in Brighton.

Brighton on the shores of Bramble Bay, lies between Sandgate and the
Houghton Highway and Ted Smout Bridge across to Redcliffe. At about the
5km mark we set foot on Brighton with its wide streets and renovated timber
homes fronting the waterfront esplanades with parks, paths, restaurants, cafes
and swimming pool facilities. The seaside location and the many amenities
has attracted many families to live here.

Soon we get to the ramp and pathways of the 3km long Ted Smout bridge.

Ted Smout Bridge on Bramble Bay at the Pine river.

The easterly wind was blowing and cooled us as we ran over the thrice-bridged
waters of bramble bay on the mouth of pine river. We met many cyclists walkers
and joggers on our journey from cliff to cliff.

We were about three-quarters of an hour into the race and I had used up
my water and feeling thirst. Thankfully we had in sight the inviting sprawling
oasis of Clontarf with its bayside parks walkways and bikeways and recreational
facilities. Clontarf at 9km mark is another charming seaside suburb
at the southernmost tip of Redcliff Peninsula with a children's playground
area, and popular boat ramp. I kept an eye out for the mini half-marathon
turn-around marker in Pelican Park (named in honour of the amazing sea birds
living in the area).

My running companion is a very fit lady, having lost a bit of weight and
is now just running recreationally to keep herself slim, and dare i say
dangerous. Hey Ms Pfieffer, you rule! She kindly paced me for more than half of
the half-marathon, before i begged off pretending to look for a water tap.

The rest of the run was the reverse of the northbound out run. So I
sailed against the southerly/ southeasterly headwind as I retraced my steps. I
stopped a couple of times for water. I passed some runners, and other runners
passed me. Running's like that - tit for tat.

Photos post-race.

Admiring the seascape in the sun's wake behind the clouds.

That's a newbie, I think his name's Mate, and his friend Tanker.

A couple of tourists take pictures while a barefooted finisher
contemplates buying shoes,

or a camera.

A fast-finishing first timer conquers the cliff2cliff foreshores.Ms Chelle rules!

A group does a post-race debriefing.

The rails hold firm against... pushers.

There’s a lot more features in Redcliff with Norfolk pines and swimming
lagoons and beaches and picnic parks and lookout points. And in Brighton and
Sandgate are local wetland reserves for native flora and fauna. There
are also numerous restaurants, cafes, and of course fishing. I do see those attractions on my occasional
travels to the peninsula, via the tourist route along the coast, not by air, not on foot, but by car.

Monday, 26 March 2012

This article first appeared in a book published in 2011.
As a child growing up deep in the mountains, the writer could only ever dream of visiting the land of Lincoln.
She was one of the first girls from Mainit to go to school and finish college. And when she became a schoolteacher, she would inculcate in the minds of her young pupils the words of the Great Emancipator -
that we are all created equal and that everyone must have a chance.

My Travel to America:
Seeing Sights, Gaining Insights

By Magdalena Odsey
Kis-ing

When my
children said that I would visit America, I was over the moon. At 71, I did not
expect that I would still get the chance to ever see “the land of the free and
the home of the brave.” But like a dream come true, with my brother Frank and
my daughter Judy, I arrived in Los Angeles, California in October 2011 exceedingly
excited to see the sights— but moreso, to be reunited with my only grandson,
Second, whom I have not seen for long six years.

I could not
contain my joy as I hugged my grandson at the airport, along with my daughter,
Rhalyn, my son-in-law Voltaire, and his sister Gina – who came to welcome us.

My story
shall unfold not in the chronology of the 12 states I’ve been at a marathon
speed. Instead, let me share my experiences and the insights I’ve gained from the
places which had left a strong impact on me, and brought lasting memories that
I will cherish in the remaining years of my blessed life.

Now, buckle
up and journey with me as we wind through this so-called land of milk and
honey.

On the East
Coast, my niece, Mae and her husband Edward were our gracious hosts, tour
guides and photographers rolled into one. We arrived in Washington D.C., the capital
of the United States and the seat of government of the world’s superpower. Long
before we arrived, I had been looking forward to walking the “hallowed grounds”
of the District of Columbia. Little did I know that I would be literally
walking through the three-kilometer stretch of the National Mall which covers
the entire area between the Lincoln Memorial and the US Capitol.

But I was
unfazed by the six-kilometer distance (back and forth) as I thought it would
just be an easy walk from Bontoc to Alab where I used to teach. I discovered however that my legs are not as quick
and strong as they used to be, and I had to rely on my cane to carry a bit of
my weight.

The US
Capitol was a sight to behold. From afar, it stands as a proud and grand symbol
of power. The 88-meter high dome above the Capitol building adds to the
grandeur of the place.

My niece’s camera
was clicking away trying to capture our faces in front of the famous landmark.
But nothing could compare to the delight I felt as I watched the ducks
frolicking in the pond in front of the US Capitol. Oblivious of the tourists
and passers by, the ducks – father, mother, babies – were dancing and merrily
chasing each other around the waters. They looked so happy, peaceful and
carefree – mirroring my feelings when surrounded by my children, family and
loved ones.

While maybe a
common thought, I could not help but truly appreciate that beyond all the
power, the grandeur, the successes – of whichthe US Capitol, to me, symbolized – in the end, what matters is the simple
yet profound joy of being together as a family.

That was just
our first stop and we still had a long way to walk. We came next to the
Washington Monument which is an obelisk of marble and granite built to
commemorate the first US President, General George Washington. It is known to
be the world’s tallest stone structure.

Surrounding
the Monument are flags of the United States. I wondered if the flags numbered
50 to represent the 50 states. With my curiosity piqued, I started counting how
many flags were there as we walked around the Monument. Frank said I would lose
count, but I persevered and kept my focus. But I soon gave up when my eyes grew
tired because the flags all looked the same! I later learned that there were indeed
50 flags at the base of the Monument.

During an earthquake August of last year, the
Washington Monument was damaged and it remains closed to the public while the
structure underwent repair. That stopped me on my tracks as I thought about how
fragile, delicate and vulnerable life can be; how one act of nature can alter
everything as we’ve seen in the many disasters that struck us recently. In my simple mind, I
went back to a basic understanding that we should cherish people around us, and
make the most of the moments we have.

I will now
take you to my favorite spot in DC – the Lincoln Memorial. I looked forward to
paying my respect to a great man whom I’ve read and learned about in school –
Abraham Lincoln. As I stood in front of a giant monument where he was seated, I
silently recited his famous Gettysburg address which my grandson Second
memorized in full when he was only five years old. I’m sure my Manong Ben,
would have been most impressed if he had the chance to listen to my grandson recite
those long lines.

While I could
not remember the whole speech, what stayed in my mind were the lines, “… that this nation, under God, shall have a new
birth of freedom – and that government of the people, by the people, for the
people, shall not perish from the earth.” I stood in
awe of this great leader and a man of humble origin, who began the process that led to the end of slavery
in the United States.

After five hours of driving from Washington D.C., we arrived in New Year City and drove straight to
Brooklyn where we were kindly hosted by Dinney Dawas-Bentayen from Sagada. We
had a great time staying with Dinney and her son Mang-us in their lovely home.
We were joined by my other niece Nieves and her husband Gilbert who traveled
from New Hampshire to meet with us.

The Statue of
Liberty, which is the icon of freedom, was our first destination in New York. Clad
in thick jackets which we raided from Dinney’s closet, we were ready to see the
colossal sculpture on Liberty Island on a rainy and windy morning.

After an
exciting ride on the famous New York subway, we boarded the ferry that took us
to the Statue of Liberty. The statue was a gift of the people of France to the
United States. It is a statue of a robed lady representing Libertas, the Roman
goddess of freedom.

From the
statue, we took another ferry to the nearby Ellis Island which served as the nation's busiest
immigrant inspection station from late 1800’s until 1950’s. We went around the museum and learned the moving tales of the 12 million
immigrants who entered America through the golden door of Ellis Island. Today,
the descendants of those immigrants account for almost half of the American
people.

A quick
walk on famous Manhattan led us next to the Ground Zero where the World Trade
Center stood until the September 11 bombing. Opposite the ground zero is the
St. Paul’s Chapel which served as a place of rest and refuge for recovery
workers at the World Trade Center.

Leaving New York, we had a much anticipated stopover in Virginia at
the lovely home of the Lusads. Manong Herman and Manang Mary, and their lovely
daughter Imee, had a warm dinner waiting for us when we arrived. It was late
when we all retired for the night after hours of is-istorya and catching up. We were very delighted to see them both
doing well, and our talks continued on the breakfast table the next day before
we all rode to Jamestown where Manong Herman and Manang Mary eagerly took us
around this historic park which was the first successful English
settlement on the mainland of North America.

On the East
Coast, we also visited the state of country music, Tennessee. While we did not
get to meet Garth Brooks in Nashville, we got to spend time with Claire, my
sister-in-law and her family from Palestine who showed us genuine hospitality,
that indeed, regardless of the color of our skin, race or religion, we can
learn to live in harmony, respect and peace.

Georgia,
North and South Carolina were included in our
itinerary, and we also breezed through Delaware, New Jersey and Philadelphia.
However, I have to cut short my story to save space for an account of my visit
on the West Coast.

From the
East Coast, I had a glimpse of California, by far the most populous U.S. state and famous, among
others, for being the center of American entertainment industry – Hollywood, of
course. I had a funny feeling walking through the affluent city of Beverly
Hills, home to a number of celebrities, heirs and dignitaries.

I was musing over the idea that an old
lady like me from Mainit is walking the streets of these famous people! I am
not famous, and never will be. But that moment somehow answered my curiosity
about the streets which famous people walk. And guess what? I found out that it’s
no different at all from where we walk on. Some parts are smooth and paved, but
others have bumps and curves. Such is life for all – famous or not!

Grand Canyon West is one magnificent sight to
behold. It is the largest canyon in the world, and is found in the state of Arizona. There is much to say about its grandeur
and immensity. My daughter simply calls it breathtaking.

We walked through the Grand Canyon Skywalk, a transparent horseshoe-shaped bridge 4,700 feet from the
base of the canyon! We clapped when Frank conquered his fear of heights and
completed the full walk around the bridge!

We’re coming to the end of my visit and
I saved the best for last – my grandson’s eighth birthday when we invited our
relatives, friends and kakailyan to
join us for lunch. We were truly touched when kakailyan from our beloved town made the effort to come out and see
us. They drove all the way from Arizona, San Diego and Los Angeles.

I will not mention their names lest I
would miss out on some, but the fond memories, the laughter and the joys we
shared – will stay in our hearts and minds. We are grateful to them all for
making our visit to America even more meaningful.

Looking back, whether here or there, near or
far, what truly counts are the moments we share with our families, friends and
loved ones. The memories of the places we’ve seen may soon come to a blur, but
the joy of seeing them with the people we love will remain long after our
journey ends.

The author is a retired schoolteacher from Mainit, Mountain Province. When she's not visiting her grandson in California, she spends her time in Bontoc tending to her fields and moulding the moral landscapes in the minds of the younger generations.

Thursday, 22 March 2012

Running in the twilight at the University of Queensland grounds in St Lucia is something else. As usual the event is quite enjoyable and well organised from parking, race shirts, luggage, marshalls, pacers, volunteers, helpers, timing system, facilities, spectators, well-lit grandstand finish, events and activities for all ages, and others. It is a wonderful thing to
run under the moon and the stars, although on race day (or night) one cannot see them for the clouds and the trees.

Like last year (2011 twilight run) the lead up to this
event was a rainy couple of days. But an overcast Sunday at least in St Lucia,
was dry for the race.

The festival was in full swing when I
arrived at the UQ campus. I was caught in the midst of what seemed like
hundreds of cars pouring into the grounds for the race.

The festival opened at
2pm for race pack collections. And activities for the young opened at 3pm:
jumping castles, zorb balls, face painting etc. The parking spaces within the
university grounds and adjoining streets were pretty much all taken when I
arrived at around 3:45pm. I circled around and back and found a spot not far
from the roundabout.

And then the show got on the road - a
comedy of errors, at least in my case.

At the end of the day, I had come up with
a list of new running year’s resolutions for 2012:1.Remember to bring
your running shoes to the race1.e Manage the drinking problem2.Check the start
time3.Check the location
of the start line4.Use the toilets
before the race and check locations of portaloos5.For black toenails,
prevention is better than cure6. Etcetera7.And others

Now it would be reasonable to ask what
precipitated such a list.

Okay, I’m still young at heart to jump
castles and ball with zorbs (whatsazorb?) and paint or hide my face, but wait til you
get to my age.

So anyway lesson 1.

Driving in, I was wearing thongs
(flip-flops or tsinelas) hoping to keep my feet relaxed while nursing a couple
of black toenails. After finding a parking spot I went to put my shoes on only
to realise that I did not put them in the car. So the planned relaxed approach
to the race became an anxious race against time to race home for my racing
shoes and then race back before the race start. Does my racing make sense? Plenty of time, I thought. Back an hour later and the festival
atmosphere became like groundhog day – déjà vu, all over again, for the second
time around... that was lesson 1.

Amidst the anxiety, I started drinking
– hard, unchilled water, straight. And so my drinking problem told on me, for
when I got to racing, my bladder complained constantly.

Lessons 2-4.

The queues to the portaloos were as
long as the finishing straight, so I jogged down to the oval instead, hoping to
come back later. I was doing some stretching when the race announcer said “...five
minutes to the start of the half-marathon”. My watch said 5:25pm and I looked
around and there were other runners milling around in their brand new green
twilight running vests. The scheduled race start was at 5:50pm so I thought the
race announcer must have said “...25 minutes to race start.” A few minutes later I suddenly heard “...dy, set, Go!”
and then some cheering. I looked up towards the grandstand and saw behind it a mass
of runners starting off - for the half-marathon race! I sprinted up as I realised
I had missed the start.

I was remiss and did not perform due
diligence to confirm the start time and the start line. Later I found out that
the 5:50pm start time was for the 3km event. I now know also to check the 1/2marathon start
line and not assume that it is the same as the previous year’s 10km, and finally that other runners in the oval may have already finished racing.

There were cordons and
crowds of people milling about the oval and the track and it took what seemed
an eternity before I came out to the back of the race and joined the fun runners in costumes strolling across the start mats of the half-marathon run. A familiar face greeted me there. Keef was
waiting or looking for his wife, and I said hello, see you later, as I started
negotiating the backmarkers. All up I lost maybe two minutes to the leaders.

Lesson 4 was the
most painful. All along the tree-lined banks of the Brisbane river we ran
and ran and ran and I looked and searched and peered and grimaced and panicked until I could
not hold on any longer and ducked behind some bushes in the dark to water the loam under the gum trees.Lesson 5.

During the race, I was
nursing a black toenail that had appeared after a post-Christmas run in Mt Nebo. The downhill portion of that mountain course was not kind on my toes and
I returned from it with a souvenir – a couple of black toenails. So it was that
one of them looked to fall off at any stage of the twilight run. On the way into
the UQ grounds I popped into a corner store for literally a bandaid fix for my suspect
toenail. I bought a box of bandaids which I used to tape my toe.

The bandaid fix held
but the nagging uncomfortable tape around the toe was enough to distract me
from running optimally. Next time I will run Mt Nebo uphill only and catch a
ride back.

I like the gum trees lining the winding route. I gotta run here before - in the Brisbane running festival in August last year along the river banks in Dutton
Park. This time we get to run on both sides of the river. The two suburbs Dutton Park and St Lucia are joined by a bridge that only buses, cyclists and
pedestrians may use. It was great
catching the river breeze up there but I had a race to run.

I did finish. But
my black toenail wasn’t finished. When I got home, I found it still hanging on. The sight of blood makes me faint and I could not contemplate pulling the thing out. Someone told me that a black toenail is a sign of a runner. I wonder if that makes me
one.